


Down South

by Winterlesshawk



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Really fluffy, gets a bit intense, i dont know, kinda angsty, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5180030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterlesshawk/pseuds/Winterlesshawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clint returns from a mission in South America that Bucky was reluctant to let him go on in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down South

 

It’s Lucky that wakes me first, scratching at the bedroom door; low whimpers falling from his mouth. I shift slightly and open my eyes to look at the dog, I then realise that the hallway light is on, which means only one thing.

A warmth spreads through my chest and my spent eyes suddenly feel less like lead weights, it’s not a struggle to keep them open. I can hear Clint unpacking his bag in the hallway, he always tries his best to be quiet but he usually fails considering how fatigued he always is following extended missions.

“Lucky,” I croon softly. The one eyed dog turns to look at me and his expression is somewhat glum, and I can’t help but let a chuckle slip past my lips, he looks so sorry for himself.

“C’m here.” The dog contemplates between the door and I before deciding I’m his best bet. He patters his way across the floorboards and pulls himself onto the bed with unease. He reminds me of Clint, this dog, I’m not sure whether it’s because I’ve grown accustomed to the two always being together or whether it’s because the dog genuinely mirrors Clint’s personality, I mean, they are both lazy, greedy, attention-craving little sew and sews and both require a lot of care to ensure they actually make it through a day. That’s partly the reason I worry about Clint so much when he goes away, I know he can hold his own but with narcoleptic tendencies and his reckless attitude it’s not hard to allow yourself to get tense.

Lucky flops onto my chest and rests his head in the crook of my neck; low whimpers are still bouncing around the room.

“It’s okay, he’ll be here soon,” I whisper softly as I run my fingers through the fur between the dog’s shoulder blades, this apparently calms him because he stops whimpering and simply huffs into my neck.

The door swings open and even through the dark of the night I can see the exhaustion in Clint’s posture. He is shirtless and I can see the way his shoulders slump and his stomach folds slightly, and the way the bandages around his bicep crease slightly with his hunch.

“Hey,” I say softly into the night, Lucky, has of course perked up and is now at the end of the bed greeting Clint with slight whimpers.

Clint smiles and limps over to the edge of the bed, he runs his hand through Lucky’s fur before giving him a soft ruffle on the head and looking up at me.

“Damage report?”

Clint smirks up at me through the dark, his eyes glimmering in the cracks of light that spill through the gap in the curtains.

“A shallow laceration in my bicep, only needed a few stitches.” He sits down at the end of the bed and starts to unzip his shoes, I watch him carefully. “Urm, I fractured my eye socket and a rib… Oh! And I also broke three of my toes.”

I feel the smirk pull at my lips, only Clint can come home with such an array of fairly minor injuries.

“How’d you even manage to break your toes and fracture an eye socket on the same mission?” I push myself up onto my elbows so I can see the archer better, even when he’s pulling off his shoes you can tell it’s a struggle.

He must have felt my gaze shift because he turns to look at me, a small smile playing on his features.

“Apparently steel toed boots aren’t only good for crushing feet, they’re pretty good for kicking people in the face too.”

I let a small laugh slip but it’s not enough to mask the evident worry in my tone. Clint knows I get anxious when he’s gone and he keeps my gaze, his eyes softening. He gingerly, but rather swiftly, pulls off his trousers before giving Lucky one last pat and he crawls up the bed.

It’s not long before he’s pulling himself under the sheets, groaning with pain as he does; fractured ribs aren’t fun at the best of times.

“You’re an idiot,” I say softly before pulling myself further under the sheets.

“I know, but so are you,” Clint says softly. Once he’s fully under the sheets he curls his arms around my bare torso and pushes his head into my chest, his cold and scratchy cheek settling against my skin. I tilt my head so that my face is buried in his sandy hair and I inhale his familiar scent, it’s unfortunately tainted by the musky smell of rubble and dirt but none the less, he still smells like coffee and vanilla.

I embrace him tightly, never wanting to let go and I close my eyes and bury my face further into his hair.

“You good?” Clint asks. He nudges my head away slightly before moving to look at me, his stubble thawing at my skin. I smile with a sense of fondness, even though the man is cold due to the world outside I feel warm, when he’s here with me like this, I feel nothing but warm.

“M’ okay.” I lean down fairly awkwardly before pressing my lips lightly to his. He returns the kiss, it’s light and soft, riddled with desire and affection. I shift slightly so that Clint’s legs are tangled in mine, his body now sprawled across my own.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into the kiss, His hand making its way across my chest leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and then it’s on my face, Clint’s calloused thumb brushing against my cheek, friction pushing between my stubble and his thick skin. I pull away from the kiss and pull his head down so that our foreheads are resting against one another.

Clint’s face is bruised fairly significantly on his right side, no doubt due to the fractured eye socket, but all the same I reach up, cupping his head in my hands.

“I missed you too.” My voice comes out more hoarse than I expect, Clint’s eyes flicker slightly before he smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry.”

I roll my eyes and close the gap between us, our lips once again touch and it sends lightning shooting through my veins.

“Don’t be sorry,” I murmur into his chapped, hot lips. The kiss soon gains momentum and the desperation kicks in, after being away from one another for close to four months it’s easy to get intoxicated by each other, Clint’s entire body is slotted between mine and our lips move with an intensity that can only be evidence of infatuation.

I pull away again, my breathing is ragged and I feel the air slowly streaming back into my lungs.

“I love you,” I whisper softly against my lover before once more resurrecting our kiss.

“I love you too,” he moans into my mouth, my teeth clutching his bottom lip.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this song > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwPrBchV3ZQ


End file.
